


Graceful does not imply dancing skill

by elfhawk3



Series: Freedom Calling [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dancing Lessons, Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:43:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfhawk3/pseuds/elfhawk3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is the first to remember the Inquisitor is a tiny barbarian elf from the back of beyond and probably can’t tell the waltz from the remigold. Offering to teach her is probably not the smartest idea he’s had this week. Hopefully, her dance partners in Halamshiral will appreciate the effort. His bruised toes certainly don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graceful does not imply dancing skill

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing silliness again. Originally posted on my [tumblr](http://elfhawk3.tumblr.com/post/108097319704/graceful-does-not-imply-dancing-skill%22).

“Stop looking at your feet,” Dorian scolds as she steps on his foot. “And don’t look at mine either. I’ve seen you read body language before.”

“I do that with my eyes,” she says, exasperated. “How else am I supposed to see what you’re doing?”

“You feel it with your whole body. You should feel the change in my grip, see the set of my shoulders adjust- ow. Was that your knee?”

 “Abelas, Dorian. I keep expecting the music to pick up.”

“Turn sunwise, Lavellan, how do you keep forgetting this?” Dorian complains, turning her one way as she tries to turn him the other. “You’re ruining my image of the Dalish being graceful.”

She rolls her eyes. “These dances are boring. Why would you want to spin in the same direction every time? And why would anyone want to move this slow?”

“Formal court dances are meant to be slow, so you don’t tear anything. And so everyone can admire you without getting whiplash.”

She giggles, spinning away from him fluidly. “Much better,” he compliments, pulling her back in only to have to catch her when she doesn’t stop. “Oof. I see I spoke too soon.”

"Dorian, darling, are you teaching her the woman’s part?"

Revas signals to Maryden to stop playing. The minstrel stops, her smile amused at the terrible showing the Inquisitor is making of Orlesian ballroom dancing. They look to where Vivienne has entered the empty room, her heels clicking loudly against the stone floor.

"She’ll be the shortest one there," Dorian explains. “Unless Varric changed his mind about attending. Though I doubt he dances.”

"The Inquisitor must lead. In all things. To do otherwise would be a sign of weakness.” She waves at the waiting minstrel. “Maryden, dear, do you know _‘Le Comte Capricieuse’_?”

“Yes, First Enchanter,” the woman replies.  “Though it sounds better as part of a piano trio.” She strums her guitar, plucking out a quick waltz.

Vivienne closes her eyes, listens for a bit, and finally nods. “True. But for this, it will not matter. Start at the top. Dorian, I’m certain you know how to take someone else’s lead.”

Both dancers look awkwardly at each other as Maryden begins again.

"Just do everything you were doing. But reversed," Dorian finally says, lifting his hands. "And try not to step on my feet again."

She takes her position. “I’m barefoot, Dorian, your footsies will be fine.”

“And don’t attempt that spin. You’ll likely throw me into a wall.”

They circle through the room, slower than what the music calls for, but with fewer awkward stops and starts.

"Yes, this is much less embarrassing to watch than what you were doing earlier," Vivienne says, watching them move around the room."Still too slow, of course. Don’t dip him there, darling, you’ll drop him." Revas, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, dips him anyway and they overbalance and lay giggling on the floor.  "Always consider your partner’s size before that part, and adjust accordingly. Start again."

"I think I can manage with just one person mocking me with their advice for now, First Enchanter," she says as she stands. "But thank you for the suggestion to switch positions. This feels more natural."

"You were born to lead, dear girl. Own it." The woman sweeps out.

Dorian brushes his clothes off. “You dropped me on purpose.”

"I would never." She offers her gloved hand and they begin again.

"And here I am, doing you a favor. I could always go back to my books and wine in the library."

“I think we’d both prefer doing that, but Josephine will be sad if I don’t learn this.”

“And we mustn’t have that.”

“Why do you keep making conversation? It distracts me, I know I’ve stepped on you at least twice.”

“Lavellan, if you don’t think every one of your dance partners won’t use the time as an excuse to pump the Inquisitor for information, you are sorely mistaken.”

“So not only must I dance well, I must converse well at the same time.”

“May I recommend the weather? All sorts of imagery you can use there to send a message, without ever coming out and saying it.”

“Oh, is that why the weather is a constant topic of conversation?”

“No, Fereldans are just that boring.”

“Really, ser magus,” the minstrel says with a mock frown, eyes twinkling, as she continues to play. “That’s my mother you speak about.”

“A thousand apologies to your blessed mother, Maryden. I’m sure she  _never_ complained about the constant rain and muck that is Ferelden in springtime.”

She smiles. “Oh no, the muck was why she moved to Cumberland.”


End file.
